


hide-and-seek is hard

by The3rdTrumpeteer



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Blood, Friendship, Gen, the night race fucks up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The3rdTrumpeteer/pseuds/The3rdTrumpeteer
Summary: Hide-and-seek shouldn't be played in the dark, as Race learns one night.





	hide-and-seek is hard

“The rules are simple,” Jack says, lacing up his sneakers. “Everyone hides. I’m ‘it’ first. If I find and tag you, you’re captured. If someone else tags you, you’re free. The round’s fifteen minutes long. I’m gonna start counting...now!”

Jack closes his eyes, and everyone scatters. Albert and Elmer have already disappeared around the corner of the nearest building. Crutchie is a little slower on his prosthetic, but in a few seconds, he’s also gone. Race can’t find anywhere good to hide. He finally decides to slide underneath the nearest parked car (Jack’s, he realizes) and wait until he thinks everyone is out of the area. All he has to do is be the last one found, and he’s golden.

Race can hear Jack still counting. The number is a hundred, and then the seeker begins his search.

“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine...one hundred!” Jack calls. “Ready or not, I’m comin’ to get you guys!”

“That’s not how the phrase goes!” Someone yells back, and then Race hears footsteps as Jack sprints toward the voice. A few seconds later, and there’s a yelp and a swear.

“Gotcha, Smalls!”

One by one, Race hears the other hiders get found and subsequently captured (Albert lasts a little longer and manages to free Smalls, Les, and Crutchie before Jack takes him out).

It’s been eleven minutes according to Race’s watch, and he thinks he might be the last one hidden; Jack hasn’t even come near the car yet. Now all Race has to do is make it back to base (Crutchie’s car, decided at the beginning of the game), and he’ll win.

Race takes a deep breath and slides out from under the car. Another deep breath, and he’s sprinting, making a beeline for base. He just has to touch the bumper-

Race doesn’t see the parking curb. Race  _really_  wishes he had seen the parking curb.

He hits the ground hard on his left side, landing on the parking curb and sliding across it. He rolls over with a groan, and he hears someone (Jack, he thinks) call his name.

“Race! You okay?”

“No.” His left knee is stinging, and his elbows are stinging, and both of his hands are stinging. Everything is stinging. “I’m not okay.”

Footsteps approach him, and then Jack is helping Race sit up. The others are all gathered near them at this point, expressions varying from concerned to amused. 

“What happened?” Davey asks, already reaching into his backpack for the first-aid kit he always keeps in there.

“Um.” There’s a lot of blood coming out of Race’s knee. “That parking curb wasn’t just painted onto the ground.”

“This is a special night,” Smalls says, “forever known as the night Race fucked up.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: @poorguysheadisdoingwhatnow  
> find me on twitter: @its_spinning


End file.
